


Through the Eyes of a Mother

by Artisanthemage



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, I WANT YOU ALL TO SUFFER WITH ME HAHA, Yall can thank Collateral beauty and Elmidol who listen to me sob lol, if you get my easter egg u a nerd like me, made up humanoid race
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-04 22:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14030523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artisanthemage/pseuds/Artisanthemage
Summary: "Just make sure you notice the collateral beauty."-Brigitte from Collateral BeautyIt has been twenty-nine years since you lost your child. Time means nothing to your race that nearly can live forever, but time was taken from your child. Your child did not even get a chance to pass twenty years, no parent should outlive their child.





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElmiDol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElmiDol/gifts).



Time, you learn, is not linear like most believe it to be, it flows to and fro stopping for no one or thing.

Death, you learn, is not selective or gentle. It solely takes and takes until there is nothing left to take.

Love, dear love, you know by heart gives and binds you to those or things unworthy and worthy. All these and more have led you throughout life and still does.

Time does at least, affecting your slowly decaying body. Preparing it for Death. Just like… just like. It is hard not to spill tears that want to stream down. You want to cry but obligations stop you. Looking at yourself in the mirror on your bedroom door, you can see the bags under your eyes. Those are quickly hidden away by makeup. The scars from your pregnancy hidden away as well by your gown. Your child… The light of your life was taken away with no remorse. Your head hurts at the flood of feelings that dare to come forward. You shove them away, bury them the way you had to… Looking at the numbers of the digital clock you open the door leaving your room.

You can not hide there forever even if you want to. Just waste away into nothingness. Descending the overly dramatic stairs down the hall, your sister appears from the study room. You know your relationship has strained after all that happened. Everyone expects you to get over it, to move on. Even if years have passed the pain is there! It will always be there! You were a mother, had a child for Maker’s sake! Clenching onto the railing you do not say a word but keep your eyes on her.

“Well, look who decided to finally appear!” She’s drunk, you know this just by the way she leans back and forth while holding a wine glass. Guess the formal dinner has already started or your sister made a head start. “Watch your step,” The moment you are down the stairs you hold onto your sister. You are not rude or harsh to her, she is upset just like you. She is just grieving self-destructively. “There we go.” Taking her to the kitchen is the best you can do. “I’ll get you some water--” You are cut off by her sobbing. With as low as a crying drunk woman can be, voices a one-sided argument.

After so long of being alone only with your thoughts and reflection to keep you company; you have been able to block out things you do not wish to hear. Giving your sister a glass of water and taking her wine glass away, you leave.

You are a shell of your former self. Once lively and strong. You did you homeworld proud in representing it in the Senate. Now… Now you just wander like a ghost in your own home. Your sister who feels too much love to let you go.

You lost your child so long ago to a war your world wanted nothing to do with.

Yet, here you are playing hostess with for your world to the First Order. The new General Hux, Brendol's son, mingling as any officer of such high rank would know how to. You greet him with a smile and curtsy. Small talk is made but you excuse yourself before it could become a full conversation. The ballroom, that you have barely used since retiring, filled with officers and soldiers of importance. You caught a glimpse of the infamous Captain Phasma getting a drink or making it look like she is.

Outside on the balcony, you take in the cold air and lean against the banister. You have not even taken a sip of the wine in your hand. Maybe in fear of getting drunk and making a fool of yourself.

“I thought the host would be attending to her guest.” The vibrating voice modifier as you turn around. Eyes cast down, flawlessly curtsy before replying, “Too many hosts on the floor can feel overwhelming, Commander.” You have serviced in the military, a secretary but still in the military. Meaning you understand rules of conduct and just formalities as a former Senator. “How is your evening so far, Commander?” 

The conversation, you thought, was going to be one-sided. The Commander is not known for talking. Yet, he speaks to you though never looking. Being taught by Imperials in an academy to teach those wanting to be in politics, you know how to act towards men like General Hux. Commander Kylo Ren is a tricky man to read and not only because of his mask. He touches your hair causing you to tense up and go silent. Covered fingers following the long braid over your shoulder. There is  _ something _ in the way he touches your hair, the way his mask faces you. You know this feeling. Of course, you do because you touched objects that remind you of your child in such a manner.

Has he lost someone?

The Commander grabs the braid not harshly then let go. Body turning with a smooth grace going back to the ballroom.

The air leaves your body.

.

.

.

After the party, you were still playing hostess. Your sister was not there to help you truthfully. How could she after being emotionally drunk and never had done things like this. You had to step up to the plate. General Hux returned to the First Order flagged ship while Commander Kylo Ren stayed here. The new Senator was relying on you much to your dislike. All this should have been at their home, not yours. But you do not complain, this is keeping you busy. “This will be your room during your stay,” Opening the guest bedroom door. “If you need anything my room is right beside yours. A service droid is also available to you.” You are formal, pretending that you care about his needs. There are rumors that the Commander is young. Much like General Hux. There was a time when Generals such as Hux were much older. He wanders inside inspecting the room, likely for bombs or assassins, etc. As your government would be that daring.

“This will do.” He says. You were just about to wish him a good night, once moving out the room and standing in the hall. The door slams shut in front of you.

So much for pleasantries.

  
  
  


When morning comes, you do not leave your room. The sunrise that you can see from your window has you sobbing on the floor. Clinching to a toy your child held so dear. It was a gift from the child’s father, a toy X-Wing. The days grow harder as you are now being forced to leave seclusion just to entertain some people. The First Order are powerful but are not a Senator anymore! The knocking at your door is ignored. Whoever it is can go bother a droid or something. A voice follows, your mother making you aware that the Commander asked for you, personally. Being forced once again to act like the shell of a person you have become is not easy. There less bad days and horrible bad days. But life moves on even as you grieve.

“I will right there.”

Most people of your species would just have another child. Being that your humanoid race can live for so long this is not a problem. Most of those that remember the Era before the Clone Wars, like your parents, died off. Death still finds your race though it just takes a bit longer. Maybe this why your people do not grieve so much, they celebrate the life one had rather than feeling heartbroken. Not you, your child did not get the change to live for the many years or at least half the life your people do.

Putting your hair in a high ponytail held by a headpiece, you look like a person of your status should. When your civilization was found, it was heavily inspired by Nabooians. Course your culture blended it with theirs thus the dress you wear is far more colorful than the others. After dressing makeup is applied to hide the tear stains and puffy cheeks. Leaving your room once more you descend the staircase where the new Senator is speaking with the Commander. His body language speaks volumes; he does not care. You bow your head to both men. “You requested my presence, Commander?” Being a bit cold to him is not your intentions but you had to do a rush job after crying most of the morning. “You will give me a tour of your city.” The  _ command _ confuses you. Looking over at the Senator giving him a questioning look. That is  _ his _ job! You long since retired! His can only shrug. “Uh, of course, Commander.” Since there is no move for negotiation. 


	2. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring the unknown requires tolerating uncertainty.  
> -Brian Greene

The homeworld is so advanced it rivals the Chiss, living nearly forever, of course, your people would be this advance in technology and philosophy. The only reason your people were not involved in the great wars within the inner systems is due to your world being in the  _ Unknown Region _ . Unknown to those in the inner systems. The discovery of your world was by the Resistance during a battle with the First Order, back then the homeworld was a neutral world. Fear now possibly changing that stance. The only reason for this fear is because of the arrival of the Force Wielder, Kylo Ren. No one in your world ever saw a Sith Lord, well a Darkside user. The homeworld is abundant in the Force, it is a way of life and many speculate this is causing the people’s close to immortality lifespan. Kylo Ren believes this just as the Supreme Leader. The First Order will get its upgrade like Hux wants, and Kylo Ren will be for filling his master’s command.

“We do not have Jedi Temples,” You voice draws his gaze from your lap, he had not intended to stare particularly there. You smile at him softly, your hair is nice. Reminds him of something he does not wish to. “We do teach those more adept in the Force is other schools,” You explain during the ride into the city. Your manor is near the countryside, partly isolated. Kylo believes that is what you want.  _ Alone. _ Leaning forward you point out at a tower that glitters in the sunlight. “This our business district,” Kylo can see a number of your people walking on the surface and some driving land speeders like vehicles. All aesthetics pleasing to the eye. “The next stop will be taking us need one of the schools.” He can look into your mind easily, you do not want to be around children. Ren knows about your lost, rather Ben Solo knows about the lost but in more detail. Princess Leia during senate summoning would converse with you. Trying to get you to back her. Back then you had a child by your side always clinging to your dress or on your lap during talks. He never saw you without the child.

The child’s death made you step down. Ben Solo felt bad native to the tactics corrupted politicians use to get what they want. An attack on a prominent figure like yourself resulting in a child's death, a baby by your culture’s standard. It forced your people to take a side, though no one expected that side to be the First Order.

The weight of your arm around his is light as if you do not want to touch him. Anyone else would not have noticed but he does for Ren understands not liking close contact.

Your hair is bothering him.

“Here the children learn to integrate their gifts into everyday life.” Some of the little ones look and wave in your direction. All happy or curious about him. All are wearing either white or grey robes like Jedi padawans. “I thought you said there are no Jedi Temples.”

Your chuckle makes him aware that you think his accusation cute. He is not  _ cute. _ “We may have stylized our schools like them but we do not take children from their homes and families nor do we force the weight of the galaxy on them. They are kids and should enjoy life as such.” The love you have in your voice also shows in the way you stop to stare at the kids playing. Some playing with sand using the Force to make simple sandcastles. Yes, by your word they are acting like kids.

“Would you like to see the materials they learn?” The feather touch returns.

 

Being inside the school Kylo can only feel the Force. No, light side or dark side of the Force, just the Force in its purest form. He can sense a small amount of that from the  _ Finalizer _ but on the planet, in the school, it is strongest. He can see many different age groups here. Those in grey robes are students. Those in regular clothing are teachers. You explain how the school works in detail.

“The robes are just uniform of course. The students aren't restricted to just bland attire.

Your child never wore these are you, they always dressed in colorful clothing like yourself. Promoting expression. With the helmet on Kylo Ren can keep himself apart him this, to stop thoughts deep in the back of his mind wondering what it would have been like to have lived here?  **_Live here as Ben Solo._ **

“The archives are just down here.”

The way your people are so open about the knowledge they both studied from the Jedi and Sith thus allowing them to create a medium that works for them is astonishing. As if there is nothing to fear or this a tactic to appear weak hiding power.

He removes himself from your side looking, seeking perhaps something. “Where are the Old Republic records?” You think for a moment before calling over a small droid. “Old Republic records.” Kylo listening to speak in your native tongue. Several beeps are given in response and you pat the droid’s head. You look at him and point down the hall, “Last row to your left, Commander.” Giving him direction. “Would you like for me to--”

“You will remain by my side.” 

 

And you do. It is then you realize he is keeping you close as a ‘willing hostage’ if there is such a thing. You are important to your people even if you try to downplay your importance. Before your child’s death, you served your homeworld up and beyond the call of duty once the world became part of the New Republic. Most in the Senate found you annoying but you only wanted your people’s voice hears just as the other. Senator Organa-Solo was a woman you admire and befriend during your service. Looking up to such heroes like her is a normal thing. Your child did the same though mostly like the pilots, just like his father. Sitting quietly while the Commander looks over the, what he calls, holocrons. The silence is allowing such thoughts and feeling to return. So you stand and begin looking over a large number of data collectors on the shelves.

Kylo's eyes glance up the moment you got up, watching your elegant figure effortlessly raise with grace. The dark royal blue gown flowing with you as you pace around. The headpiece holds your hair up glittering from the sun peeking through the windows of the hall above. While you weren’t looking he caught a glimpse of your breasts pushed up by the dress, aesthetic purposes?

You are a living example of what a woman of power should look like-- Rather you are an example that anyone who tries hard enough can be a Padmé Amidala. Ben Solo’s mother came close to that picture perfect idea of a Senator.

His eyes fall back to the holocron, Revan’s voice drawing Ren attention. It was the Dark Lord’s speech about the  _ Rule of Two _ , the philosophy of the Sith. Ren always admired the Dark Lord besides his grandfather. But, Revan had a following, the Revanchist, this is why Ren had the Knight of Ren for they are his followers. When the speech end Ren sits back rubbing the back of his neck, it has already started to get dark and you have sat down watching him absentmindedly. “Would you like to return here tomorrow, Commander?” Your tone coming off concern. What it is you are bored and want to go home. He does not reply continuing to rub the back of his neck. He does not pay attention when you stand to go to his side and touch his hand on this neck. Ren’s other hand grabbing yours quickly. His helmet turning in your direction, “What are you doing?” There is no sense of fear from you.

“Trying to soothe your neck pain, Commander.” It is not flirtatious gesture like Ren thought. It is a kindness. A second delay before he releases your hand after placing his other hand down. “May I?” Asking permission rather than assuming.

  
  


After seeing your world’s education system, Ren wanted to see more but this time of your choice. Since neither of you has eaten since the morning you decided to ‘take him out’. If that could be said. During the morning trip, not many people were outside and those that were did not steal glances at the Commander or you. The children at the school naturally stare in curiosity and wonder. One child, a little boy wearing black robes, came up to Ren pulling at his pants. “Are you a Sithy?” The boy maybe four or five years of age. At first, you were going to intervene until the Commander kneeled down before the boy. “No.” The boy nodding then touching Ren’s mask. “I want to look cool like you, mister!” Cheerful voice. It awed you how Ren lifted the boy’s hood to match his. “We match.” The beautiful wide smile the boy gives nearly warms your heart. This event though through your mind into a loop; is the Commander not as bad as he appears? You have seen Jedi and Darth Vader but a not a Kylo Ren.

He is a something in his own.

“Private.” Speaking when you both arrive a small restaurant. To those out of your race it would appear you are using the Force to read the Commander, who appears to block out everything and one, he seems anti-social. “Thank you.” Ren follows you without a word, yet you can read his body language like a book. He is uncomfortable in public or around those with the Force like him. Well, not as strong.

Sitting down Ren takes the seat that faces the doorway forcing you to sit in the seat with the doorway to your back. Water is delivered to your table and menus by a droid waiter. Ren stare has you feeling stalked as you tell the waiter to give you both a moment.

“Is this to your liking, Commander?” You do not hide your annoyance. His hands on the table make a fist then release. It has come to a point where you believe nothing is to his liking unless it is some holocrons on past Sith Lords and such. Releasing an exasperated, “Or stare at me all night is fine.”

“You are trying to make friends,” Finally speaking. “You don’t like that I am forcing you to play ‘Sentor’.”

“Oh, he graces me with his works.” Tempting to smirk however you know better.

“You should be more respectful to your guest, (L/N).” He is amused most likely thinking this a game. “Hux expected you to be the senator of this world, not that  _ puppet _ .”

It is now you who makes a fist on the table then release it, “Our senator is very proficient, Commander. But you would not know that because you are making me do their job.”

 

The conversation continues not as bickering, you are both not children, well you aren’t that is certain. Commander Ren is learning about you as much as you are learning about him. Conflict is a very quick way to learn an opponent. Whether Ren sees you as an opponent is unsure. Nonetheless, the tense is somewhat lifted and you find Ren to be just a man with rage issues, not you would tell him that.

“I did create relations with Hux’s father and I am sure those relations will continue with the new senator and the current General Hux.” Taking a sip of your water. “If he has any concerns he can personally tell me, Commander.” The droid sets the plates of food down without you even noticing until the smell hits you. Naturally, you take the napkin placing it on your lap, head and eyes lowered. The hiss of air draws your eyes looking from your lap to see the Commander removing his mask. Air leaves your lungs when you see his face.  _ So young _ . His face pale but that compares nothing to the youthfulness of his face.  _ Your child would be that young.  _ You have to grab another napkin to wipe the tear that slipped then played it off by coughing. The first time you saw Kylo Ren seemed older. His large mass and the skill you heard from talks around officers and transmissions it only made sense. Anakin Skywalker was older when he went into battle! A child, not insulting Ren, such youth going to war. “I remind you of--”

“Do not finish that line.” Holding back tears is embarrassing; taking a breath just to not relapse. The last thing you want is to be weak in front of the Commander. 

“Of course, (L/N).” You don’t need to look to know this in a sick way amused him or whatever. All dark side users love to feed off misery, Ren is likely no better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the last outfit Padme wore in Episode 3? yeah I stole it lol cuz we rock it better!
> 
> Edit note: Dear readers you can see me torture my other readers on tumblr @dirthamensbird where i share heartbreaking quotes or lol about kylo (or fangirl but most on hux lol)


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